


Sink or Swim

by loveandwarandmagick



Series: summertime shenanigans [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, M/M, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Secret Crush, Summer Vacation, lifeguard simon, mordelia helps a bit, no magic, poor pining baz has to watch his crush parade around in ridiculous swim gear, the title is misleading no one drowns, very soft summer vibes, wholesome vibes man it's summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24969451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwarandmagick/pseuds/loveandwarandmagick
Summary: Baz a crush on the infuriatingly attractive lifeguard and his sister won't stop asking to go to the pool. Avoiding him is, apparently not an option, so Baz makes do with what he's handed.
Relationships: Mordelia Grimm & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: summertime shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807300
Comments: 22
Kudos: 181





	Sink or Swim

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first part in a summertime series ! i decided that i make a lot of angsty content without meaning to n' i wanted to take a step back and write some light hearted stuff for once
> 
> this is the first part, and i'll try and add a new one either weekly or bi weekly, depending on my progress with my other fic, which will be published soon

Baz has never been stickier in his life. 

He’s holding onto a melting popsicle, covered in melting sunscreen, feeling like he’s melting himself. He eyes the cherry treat distastefully as it drips onto his fingers and looks for Mordelia, finding her with Vance perched cheerfully on her shoulders. 

The sun beats down on him, harsh and unforgiving, and he glares in his sister’s direction. All this so she can watch the boy she has a crush on making a fool of himself as he teaches children to swim. Baz follows Mordelia’s gaze over to him, spotting him amongst the toddlers. He’s splashing around to mimic his arms moving, looking ridiculous even  _ without  _ his swim trunks being visible. 

They’ve been coming nearly every day now, enough times that Baz has noticed his penchant for picking out brightly colored swim attire and wearing it with pride. Last week was cheetah print in hot pink on Monday. Wednesday yielded green striped ones that were  _ short _ . Thursday and Friday were solid colors; pink and orange respectfully. He looks over just as the whistle blows, right as the lifeguard lifts himself out of the water with a grin.

_ Oh _ , he thinks distantly.  _ Yellow, today. _

Mordelia’s coming back with the baby in tow, toddling behind her cheerily. He, unlike his older siblings, is blissfully unaware of the annoyingly beautiful stranger currently staring in their direction.  _ Is he a stranger if they see each other regularly? _

“Oh my  _ gosh _ ,” she starts, but Baz cuts her off with a glare. They’d discussed this briefly, a conversation that was more about Baz complaining, and Mordelia seeing right through it. After the third plaguing dream of bright green swim trunks and a golden smile, he’d refused to take her to the pool.

It had gone something like this:

_ “Why do we have to keep nursing your ridiculous crush? He’s at least six years older than you.” _

_ “Why do you insist that he’s only  _ my _ crush?” _

It was cut short by the slam of a door in her face, and a muffled complaint. Baz swore that he’d never take her anywhere ever again if she said another word on it. Unfortunately, it takes a few shushes before she takes the hint and shuts up about it. 

He ignores her frantic gesturing and wordless babble, opting instead to focus on Vance as he refuses his popsicle. Baz frowns and he mimics the expression, then laughs brightly. His favorite thing to do is laugh - definitely more of his mother than Baz’s father. 

Mordelia’s voice rises above his thoughts. “For Christ’s sake,  _ Baz _ !”

“What?” He snarls back. She just throws her hands up and huffs angrily, stalking off to the bathroom and muttering under her breath. He scowls in her direction until Vance bounces in his arms, squealing excitedly at something else. It draws Baz’s attention back to the pool, and when he turns, he comes to face to face with one grinning lifeguard. 

  
The subject of many dreams, day and night alike. 

“Heya!” He greets with a smile, and Baz narrowly silences his fight or flight instinct. 

“Hello,” he says back, thankful that his voice stayed even. Baz focuses on the lifeguard’s nose for only a moment before his traitorous eyes wander over his face, freckled and burnt from the sun. His eyes are bright, big, blue and Baz feels himself melt even more as the stranger settles in front of them. 

He kneels in front of Vance, who’s grabbed onto a handful of frizzy curls in an effort to keep from falling over as he stumbles out of Baz’s lap. The boy laughs as Vance closes his tiny fist in his hair, then opens it again to readjust.

“Ah,” he says sagely, with a broadening grin that defeats the purpose of his tone. His voice draws Baz’s gaze back to him, focusing on the blue of his eyes.  _ The color of the water _ , Baz thinks, and then he blinks and Baz is sure that he couldn’t pin the color down if he tried. 

“Believe it or not, this happens a lot more than you’d think,” he says, then laughs again. Baz wonders if this is what Mordelia was so frantic about, feeling his heart beat embarrassingly fast at the smile he’s offered.

“Why are you talking to me?” If Mordelia were here, she’d smack him upside the head for being so rude, though she should know better. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, and he only barely manages to quell it by twisting it into a blunt edge.

Unfortunately, the pretty eyed lifeguard seems undeterred by Baz’s rude question, or his frowning, sticky state.

“I’m Simon.” He sticks his hand out like he’s waiting for a handshake, but when Baz remains unmoving, he laughs and claps his hand on Baz’s shoulder instead. Undeterred, with a smile that spreads larger by the second. Baz feels ridiculous, like he’s slipping forward, tumbling into an abyss the longer he stares and avoids speaking. 

Except well, he can’t avoid it forever. Simon’s occupied by Vance wrapping a chubby hand around his thumb, delightedly staring between Baz’s face and his own hand. 

“Baz,” he manages to choke out in reply. Suddenly, a shadow falls over them, and Simon peers up curiously.  _ Does he ever stop smiling? _

  
“Hi,” Mordelia says coolly, and Simon returns her greeting with another cheery, “ _ Hey _ !”

Vance detaches himself from Simon’s hand long enough to stumble over to Baz again and grab for his melting popsicle. He hands it over quickly, relieved to be free of the drooping mess. He rubs his fingers over the towel underneath him, pointedly ignoring Mordelia’s attempts at drawing out the conversation.

He tunes back in when he notices Simon staring at him, one arm out for Vance to hold onto. “Sorry, I should go. Just thought y’all have the cutest family, and I wanted to stop by and say hi,” he mumbles, already heading back to his perch by the kiddie pool. 

“Did he say  _ y’all _ ?” Mordelia asks, but Baz barely hears her, as his eyes wander over the all too small stretch of yellow that covers Simon’s backside. His eyes snap upward as soon as he realizes he’s staring, but the bright blush across Simon’s cheeks tells Baz he was too late in looking away. 

“He totally caught you staring,” Mordelia teases in a whisper, as Simon finally turns around to jog back. 

Baz has everything packed and ready in the car in under three minutes, including a fussy Vance and an infinitely too smug Mordelia. 

He waits until she opens her mouth to make a snide comment, then says, “We’re never coming back here again. Ask Daphne for a ride next time,” and ignores her whining all the way home. 

-

It works for most of June, and then of course, July rolls around and Daphne is going out of town for a wedding. 

He’s spent the past few weeks scrubbing the image of yellow swim trunks and blue,  _ blue _ eyes off the backs of his eyelids when he wakes. There’s no way he’s going back. At least his father backs him up on that, when he and Daphne discuss it. 

He should have known it wouldn’t be so simple. On the day that Mordelia gets a ride to the pool while Baz stays home with Vance, he gets a call from an unknown number within five hours. 

“Hello?” He answers warily, expecting it to be Mordelia calling for some dreadful reason.

“ _ Heya _ ,” says Simon the lifeguard, his voice instantly recognizable from their brief encounter and many of Baz’s dreams. “Uh, your sister is here in the office. We kinda had to keep her here so she didn’t bleed everywhere.”

“ _ Bleed _ ?” Baz’s tone drips concern everywhere, against his constraint. He gets up immediately, shoving his feet into the closest pair of shoes he can find and grabbing Vance from his bouncer. Simon’s quick to mention that it’s not too serious, though Baz can barely calm himself down. 

He hears a door close, and then Simon’s voice comes in a whispery tone. “She refuses to get a ride with her friend. Uh, I didn’t want to say it in front of her, but they got into a pretty serious argument. So yeah.”

Baz sighs as he clips Vance’s seatbelt, then he settles in and starts the car. “I’m on my way.”

-

Luck continues to run thin, as he stumbles into Simon as soon as he gets through the outer gate. In red swim trunks today, Baz observes distractedly, before he realizes that Simon’s still staring at him with a careful expression. 

“Hey sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you. I just figured I’d catch you before she starts going off.” 

Baz hadn’t thought he looked surprised in the first place, but he nods without further question. Simon pulls him aside then against the fence, and all the air in Baz’s lungs whooshes out at the sudden movement. He blinks. Waits to wake up. Blinks again and realizes that he’s not dreaming, that the boy he’s had a crush on for the first half of summer has him nearly pinned to a fence. 

He wonders, not for the first time, what his first kiss could be like. 

“Are you gay?” Simon whispers quietly, pity creasing his forehead and dulling his bright eyes. Surprise tangles in Baz’s chest with anger, intricate knots twirling up into his throat and holding his voice hostage.

His fear is running too deep here for this to be a dream. Fears of being outed before he’s ready, of it being printed painfully obvious on his face. Of too-long glances, and the harm that they can do. Simon could be another bigoted idiot ready to smack Baz sideways for staring, or he could tell all his other bigoted friends. Panic swells in his throat, and words rush forward like bile.

“Why are you asking me that?” In the midst of his panic, Baz registers the clearing of Simon’s face.

“Oh,” he says softly, stepping back enough so Baz can take an uneasy gulping breath. Vance coos in his arms, and Simon’s face warps into an uneasy sort of smile as he looks at him. Baz clears his throat, and Simon looks at him again. 

“No. No, you’re okay. It’s just that, well that’s what the argument was about.” 

Baz stares absently at the floor while he registers this, pausing carefully before he responds. 

“Did she tell you?”

“Some of it,” Simon says, blowing out a breath that is oddly reminiscent of the relief pouring from Baz’s chest. “Said that her friend made a stupid comment about some boys by the pool. I didn’t think that warranted kicking her in the face, but your sister thought differently apparently.”

He grins as he says this and pride washes over the panic, as he’s swallowed by relief and gratitude. He feels stupid for thinking she’d ever out him through spite, and even then, he’s glowing with the fact that she’d defended those boys. He’ll have to thank her in some off-handed way, so she doesn’t pick at him for being soft. 

“Alright,” Baz says, walking back towards the entrance with Simon behind him. Vance turns his head to follow Simon, and he giggles at whatever he sees. Eventually, after the third time in their short walk, Baz turns to catch Simon crossing his eyes, sticking his tongue out at Vance. They seem equally delighted that they’ve been caught - Vance screams and hides his laughter in Baz’s shoulder, and Simon laughs breathily.

He’ll have to curse Mordelia for bringing him back here before he thanks her. 

As soon as she spies them through the office window, she leaps out of her seat. Baz grimaces at the tissue held to her nose, but all she says is, “I won the fight.”

Simon laughs at that, stifling it behind his palm as he pats the top of her head. She almost swoons, before she throws a glance at Baz and ducks away from his lingering hand. He recovers quickly, following her gaze to Baz curiously before he speaks.

“You got a good kick in,” Simon grins, reaching out his dodged hand for Vance instead. He grabs on happily, immediately wrenching Simon closer with his grip. It reduces the space between them once again, and Baz’s short lived relief washes away in their close proximity. 

This close, Baz can smell the sting of chlorine on him, and the sickly sweet scent of sunscreen. Simon’s golden brown hair fills his vision, blue eyes darting happily between Baz and Vance, maybe looking for a resemblance, maybe just looking. His heart pounds, mind whirring quickly to commit this moment to memory. 

  
“Let’s go,” Mordelia says, already bouncing on her heels, “we gotta get home to Vera before mum and dad call to ask questions.” 

Simon raises his eyebrows at this, looking ridiculous and perfect in his curiosity. The sight has Baz’s lip threatening to curl up into a sneer, so he turns before he casts it on Simon. “Right, let’s go.” 

“Thank you, Simon,” she says, grinning at him. There’s a smear of blood on her lip and she looks a fright, but Simon just bumps her fist and throws her an equally sharp grin, like he’s just as proud. Baz looks away before he mumbles a thanks of his own, but he can feel Simon’s beaming smile on him up until they get home. 

-

Four hours pass before he gets a chime on his mobile. He looks warily at Mordelia before he checks it, where she’s perched on the couch with a bag of ice to her nose. 

“It’s not  _ me _ , gosh. It’s probably mum checking in on us.”

  
His suspicion increases further when he sees a text from an unknown number. The phrase  _ heya _ is unsettlingly recognizable, and Baz nearly drops his phone. Excitement and dread course through his bloodstream as he takes in the simple message, and he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle his heavy sigh.

When he decides to speak, his voice is muffled behind his hand. “Did you give the bloody lifeguard my phone number?” Mordelia’s eyes widen as she laughs, and Baz moves his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

In between giggles, she says, “Oops, forgot to mention that he  _ asked _ for it.” 

The dread is overtaken by excitement, and then swallowed up again by uncertainty.  _ Why would he ask? Would asking Mordelia give him away? Is it too late to text back? How late is too late to text back? _

She interrupts his racing thoughts to add, “He said, and I  _ quote _ …”

A pause here, probably for dramatic effect. Baz curses the fact that his father passed on their penchant for flair, curses the fact that he has a sister at all, and the fact that he’s got the most unsophisticated crush on a lifeguard.  _ Simon _ , his mind corrects, and he curses internally. 

Her voice pitches lower to mimic Simon, coming out raspy and stunted. “ _ Hey, your brother. Er, does he have a phone? I mean, of course he does. But like, does he answer it? Or like…” _

She finishes with a pointed smile, pleased with her imitation. He’s only slightly impressed by the way she was able to capture the rough drawl of his thick accent. “And then I gave him your number. And he  _ blushed _ , Baz.” 

Mordelia asks if he’s going to text back with all the relaxation that has left Baz’s body at the word  _ blush _ . He fiddles with his phone briefly, running one hand through his hair in repetitive swipes until he’s sure it’s all mussed up. 

He types a quick  _ ‘who is this?’  _ and presses send, shutting the screen off immediately. In his bouncer, Vance cries out for the phone as soon as he spots it in Baz’s hand, stubbornly sticking his hands out. 

Baz sighs and stretches out over the sofa arm to hand it to him, queuing up his favorite video on Youtube, before he folds an arm over his eyes. His nerves are a bundle in his stomach as the flittery sounds of animated monsters fills the room. Vance squeals to the songs, and then the sound cuts off abruptly. Baz frowns for a second, then it comes back on, and he eases again, waiting for his text tone to come through. 

Again, the music cuts off. Baz peers curiously at Vance, whose entire face has just lit up even more than usual. He giggles excitedly, bouncing up and down in his seat as he fiddles with Baz’s screen. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks with a frown, and Vance doesn’t even spare him a glance as his chubby fingers drag across the screen. Mordelia stands up with a yawn, fiddling with her own mobile as she makes her way to her room. The door slams harshly, and Baz hears her music start up through the walls. 

Suddenly, his phone speakers crackle to life, and Vance squeals even louder, flailing his arms and bouncing in his seat. 

_ “Oh, wow. Hi? Hi baby!” _

Vance gurgles happily, waving one arm in the air and screaming at Baz. 

_ “Can you give your brother his phone for me? Real quick, please?”  _

This is a nightmare. Baz is sleeping; he fell asleep on the couch and Vance is still watching his monster videos and this is just a dream. It’s been a dream since the first day that he saw Simon at the pool. The thought comforts him as much as it weakens him, and he finds himself reaching for the phone anyway.

“Oh heya,” Simon smiles, face blurred and partially concealed by shadows. Still lovely, though. 

  
Baz blinks and pinches his thigh, but Simon’s still there, smile only faltering a bit at the silence that falls over them.

“Uh,” he says, “I think your brother called me? Was he using your phone?”

Baz nods dumbly, not trusting his tongue to say the right thing. His gaze lands somewhere around Simon’s collarbones, barely peeking out from his shirt. He can hear a gate screeching closed in the background, water lapping at the sides of the pool. 

“Well, I’m still just here,” he responds after a second, eyes looking downward before he squints back up at Baz. “I don’t close until twelve. Crazy, huh?” The perpetual grin makes a reappearance to punctuate that, and his eyebrows raise. 

“Crazy,” Baz echoes, before it processes. He frowns despite himself and Simon’s laugh bubbles through, sounding just as bright over the phone. “Wait why so late?”

“Closing. Gotta clean up and all. Sometimes, I stay later just to swim for a while. I’ve got nowhere else to go.” He flushes with the admittance, but doesn’t break eye contact. Baz is left puzzling that out silently, trying to draw connections from the hint of truth in his words. 

Vance mumbles something unintelligible and sticks his hands out again, fingers straining for the phone again.

“Oh. I told him to lend you the phone for a moment. Would you pass it back to him?” 

Baz gapes, feeling his face go hot at Simon’s teasing grin. “You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he says, and Simon laughs openly at that, which is not at  _ all _ what Baz expected for a response. His scathing words usually knock people from their cheeriness, but Simon seems to take it in stride.  _ How interesting _ , he thinks, and then he instantly wants to unthink it. 

“Hey, at least  _ he’s  _ polite,” Simon huffs, and Vance gurgles like he’s confirming the fact. 

“He can’t even talk yet,” Baz scoffs, feeling buoyed by the sudden teasing tone behind the conversation. 

  
Baz turns the screen to face Vance again and Simon’s voice softens as it comes through. 

“Hey dude, what’s up?” 

Baz turns the screen back immediately. “Did you just call him  _ dude _ ? Don’t influence him with your preppy lifeguard surfer talk,” he groans, and Simon tosses his head back in yet another laugh. Baz might have found it annoying that his language is half laugh, if he were anybody else. His curls catch the streetlight above him, creating a golden halo around his head as he disturbs the silence with his cheer. 

“You think I’m a preppy surfer type?” He asks, stifling the rest of his giggling behind a bitten lip. Baz imagines kissing that look off his face for a horrifying second, before he remembers that Simon’s waiting for his answer. Any casual conversation has been replaced in his head by ridiculous compliments and observations. 

“I’ve got to go,” he says hurriedly, ignoring the pang behind his ribs when he sees Simon’s smile falter. 

“Oh... right. Me too, I’ve gotta clean and all,” he mumbles, eyes flicking up to the sky. The sigh he lets escape is poorly concealed, and Baz nearly answers with one of his own, wanting to take it back instantly.

“Right,” he says instead, and Simon nods.    
  


“Bye baby,” he says, and Baz freezes. “And bye to you too, Baz.” 

He shuts his phone off and tosses it at the armchair in the corner of the room. Stubbornly ignoring the hope in his chest, he stalks over to Vance with a glare. 

He raises his arms and smiles widely in response to the ugly look, bouncing in his seat as Baz picks him up. 

“You’re a gremlin and you smell like baby food,” he mutters, and Vance pushes his head into Baz’s neck, apparently too dignified to respond. 

-

By the time he puts Vance to sleep, goes to shower and eat, and checks his phone, it’s already ten thirty. As soon as he picks it up, he finds two missed messages, and a new one buzzing onto the screen. 

**_Unknown:_ ** _ Hey _

**_Unknown:_ ** _ Is it stupid to ask if you’re free right now? _

**_Unknown:_** _It’s fine if you’re not, just wondering_

Baz only lets his confusion set in for a second before he’s typing desperately, wondering what could be prompting the messages. 

**_Baz:_ ** _??? _

A bubble comes across the screen to indicate that Simon’s typing, then it disappears. This happens for about two minutes before a new chat appears. It’s a block of text so large that Baz has to scroll up in the messages.

**_Unknown:_ ** _ It’s nothing not really I’m bad at wording things and just words in general so if this sounds stupid you can just ignore it I just was wondering if you wanted to maybe stop by the pool for a sec? It’s not important, just it’s about your sister earlier nothing bad like I said it’s just nothing.  _

His vision blurs as he reads and rereads, heart soaring in his chest as he consumes the message, and another one pops up right under it. 

**_Unknown:_ ** _ Like I said it’s fine if you’re busy or you just don’t want to come by it’s nothing important anyway  _

He inputs the number as  **_Simon_ ** in his contacts and reads the message again, and again, and again, until it starts to make sense. 

It doesn’t really, but he figures he’s running out of time to respond. The flighty nature of the messages doesn’t call up images of the confident looking boy from the pool. If anything, Baz recognizes it from the strange hidden truth he’d given over the phone, intense and darker than usual. It’s intriguing, more so than intimidating. 

**_Baz:_** _just to talk?_

The bubble appears, then disappears again. Three minutes go by this time. 

**_Simon:_ ** _ You could bring something to swim in if you’d like  _

**_Baz:_** _do you assume I can just sneak out of my home?_

**_Simon:_ ** _ Your sister already said your parents are out for the weekend. Like I said it’s your choice _

Baz stills in the kitchen, unable to keep from smiling at that. He wonders how long he’s had his keys in hand, and then realizes that he grabbed them the moment Simon invited him over. 

When he goes to Mordelia to let her know he’s headed out, she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question it. He makes a note to thank her doubly, and starts his car. 

-

The car park is empty; all the lights are off except for the ones inside the pool, illuminating the water into a bright blue color. Simon’s sitting on the edge with his feet dipped in, rippling the water in lazy circles.

His hair is dry now, all frizzy and tumultuous curls reflecting the blue glow from the water. Baz is thankful that he’s finally got a t-shirt on. He doesn’t think he’d be able to focus on a single word if he had a view of those broad shoulders, golden and casted blue in the light. 

“Heya,” Simon says, voice quiet in the night air. He hasn’t even turned around. 

“How did you know I was here?” Baz asks, feeling bolstered by the cool night air and the darkness. Simon turns at that, shy smile gracing his face as he watches Baz carefully. He’s most likely surprised by the bold exchange, but he hides it well, folding his curiosity neatly into his expression.

“Heard your car. You’re the only one here, duh.” Baz’s heart stutters in his chest as he walks over and sits at the edge, keeping a careful distance from Simon. 

“Ah,” he replies, and then they lapse into silence. It should be painfully awkward, but the sound of the pool filters and the water lapping at the edge of Simon’s feet somehow manages to soothe Baz enough not to drag up conversation. 

“Do you know how to swim?” Simon asks, voice coming out soft and strange in the dark. Baz avoids his eyes when he answers, feeling his hands start to clam up. 

“No,” he responds quietly. 

Simon mock gasps, and then laughs a bit at the end. Baz adds  _ laughter as punctuation  _ to his list of things about Simon that fill his mouth with the word  _ adoration _ . 

“ _ What? _ ” He asks, letting a hint of bitterness drip into his tone to see if it’ll make Simon laugh again. It does, and the sound envelops him, makes him feel warm and buzzing with  _ good.  _ The night is soft, and Simon’s voice is soft, and his crush feels less like a noose now, less hopeless, with the way Simon’s peering at him from under his half closed eyes. 

“No, nothing,” he huffs, standing up and reaching a hand out for Baz. “I’ll show you?” 

Baz stares at the hand warily. “I don’t have swim clothes,” he mumbles, and there’s that laugh again, crackling through the empty air like fireworks in a black sky. He can barely stand the bursting joy in his chest, wonders if Simon laughs so often to expel some of it from his own. 

“I’ll lend you some of mine,” he whispers, and Baz grabs his hand.

They wade in after Simon convinces Baz to wear a pair of light blue shorts, the decision being made shortly after Simon uttered “ _ c’mon, please? _ ”

Baz shivers at the cold while Simon submerges himself instantly, coming up with his hair plastered to his forehead and chattering teeth. 

His voice rises, tremoring, over the gurgle of the pool filters when he looks over at Baz. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“Doubt it,” Baz grits back, but he takes a deep breath and submerges himself anyway to appease him. When he comes back up, Simon has suspiciously disappeared from sight. 

He glances around for any shadows in the water, entertaining the horrible thought that maybe, this was a prank to get Baz cold and uncomfortable, and to leave him there all night. Suddenly, Simon resurfaces, gasping for breath right in front of Baz’s face. His gasped laughter catches in the space between them, warm air pushing against Baz’s freezing mouth. 

He can feel Simon’s legs brushing his when he shifts; he can see his eyes darting across Baz’s face to settle on his mouth. Baz looks down, flustered, and Simon huffs, moving back the slightest bit with an uncertain smile. It curves hesitantly on his face, a soft thing that sends Baz’s mind to intimate places. 

“About your sister.” 

If Baz dwells on the sound of Simon’s voice, he can catch the faint tremor in his words, the uncertainty and breathlessness that might be from holding his breath. But he’s not entirely sure, and he can barely focus over the stutter of his own breaths. 

“Yeah, thank you for pulling her aside yesterday,” he hums, sinking down so the water rises just under his chin. Simon stares with a complicated expression until Baz raises an eyebrow at him and it clears away. 

“Do you know how to float on your back,” he asks, and Baz nods before demonstrating. The air chases his bare skin and he shivers, thankful for the shirt Simon had lent him. Simon does the same, and then they’re floating side by side, silent in a peaceful sort of way. 

Wind whispers over them, howling through the muted quiet of being underwater. Baz stands for a moment to watch Simon drift with his eyes closed. His hair fans out in an absurd shape over his head, spread out by the water. The light of the pool frames him, makes him look ethereal where he’s wrapped in water. 

Baz lets this thought dismantle him for a second before he lies on his back again. 

Simon’s voice breaks through the water in his ears, faint and far away. “The comment your sister’s friend made. She said your name.” A pause. 

Baz feels something cold creep up his spine, panic lacing tension through his body. 

“Did she tell you what she said?” His voice sounds faint even to his own ears, a result of water and panic.

“Called you a fag,” he mumbles, breath hitching. Baz tries to hide his flinch but it ripples through the water, undisguisable. Simon feels it, he must, because he stands up to look at Baz. 

“Are you? Gay, I mean.” 

Baz sits up, watches the water ripple out in dark waves around him. “I am,” he says to the water. It takes the confession without a ripple. The secret sinks to the bottom of the pool, even as it hangs, a live wire between them. 

“How do you know?” Simon asks. Baz wouldn’t dare to look up at him now, even though his voice has changed. It holds uncertainty, sounding so much like himself when he was questioning. He closes his eyes to strangle the hope clawing its way up his chest. 

“I wanted to kiss a boy,” he says plainly, the least colorful explanation he could offer. “Even if I’d been interested in girls, I still would have wanted to kiss a boy.”

Simon says, “Oh,” very carefully, as if there’s more behind it. Baz braves a glance, sees that Simon is staring at the water, and keeps his eyes on him. He’s about to say something to diffuse the tension in the quiet, but just as he opens his mouth, Simon looks up at him. 

  
“And… have you?” He asks, cautious again. His expression is guarded and careful as he studies Baz’s face. 

“No.”

He doesn’t say, “I figured that out when I first saw you,” or “Have you?”

And Simon says, “I think,” and trails off, glancing between Baz’s eyes and his chin, or maybe his mouth. One of them moves closer, though he’s not sure which. “I think. I don’t know. I want to?”

Baz holds his breath. Simon moves even closer, so the breath he takes ghosts across Baz’s mouth, a precursor. “Would you. Me? You don’t have to-”

“Simon,” he mumbles, breathless at the whisper of a kiss already on his mouth. His heart is racing, probably so much that Simon can feel it in the distance between them. 

He leans in and Baz’s mouth floods with the taste of chlorine, of  _ Simon _ . It’s a push at first, almost like a challenge, before it softens and Simon’s head tilts back slowly. Baz’s arm finds Simon’s waist and pulls him closer, feeling a thrill run through him at the contact, and Simon’s hands find Baz’s jaw and hold steady. 

Simon shoves forward once more, and pulls away, leaving them both breathless. He huffs out a laugh and Baz presses forward once more, kissing it off his face. 

“Wow,” he mumbles, eyes bleary and smile radiant against the glowing blue cast over his skin. “Yeah. Good.”

“Good,” Baz echoes dumbly, distracted by Simon’s hands on his face, by their close proximity, by the impossibility of what just happened. “Yeah,” he says, and Simon throws his head back and laughs, the sound reverberating off the water. 

Simon pulls him in for another kiss, and Baz loses track of time in the water. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank y'all for reading ! remember to stay safe and stay home, watch out for your loved ones and take care of yourselves!


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